


Hangman's Knot

by il_matamoros



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Abduction, Action/Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Light Bondage, M/M, Mystery, Other, Romance, based off of kokichi and saihara's interactions in the kumasutra hotel, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/il_matamoros/pseuds/il_matamoros
Summary: "Trapping me in a place like this... That's very like you detective...Purple eyes flashed with menacing glee."There's a transmitter on my body, so my friends probably have this place surrounded already..."A cocky grin."Nee-heehee...looks like you'll be the one getting all tied and roughed up, Shuichi!"Saihara comes to lead an investigative case tied around an infamous Phantom Thief, the head of an organization called D.I.C.E.The detective finds himself at a crossroads between his own morals, feelings, and logic as he struggles against the ultimate test of character.Under the mercy of a certain supreme leader, he finds himself slipping from his known world into a realm he never expected.





	Hangman's Knot

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome welcome.  
> I've got this fic planned out beginning to end, so I hope to update regularly.  
> It's going to be a pretty wild ride so hang tight! >:)  
> This time's chapter is brought to you by Gregory Alan Isakov's "Second Chances"!  
> I hope you enjoy.

A lonely coffee ring blemished the stark white desk.  
Synthetic lights flickered and buzzed, white noise emulating the inner imaginings of Saihara Shuichi’s mind.  
He hummed, raising the cold cup of coffee to his lips, and adjusting a stack of papers he had been staring at for hours.  
He thoughtfully tapped a fountain pen against the desk, _tap, tap, tap..._

_tap, tap, tap..._

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, the detective slammed the cup to the desk, splattering its bitter contents, and covered his face with his hands.  
The strain on his eyes was evidenced by the long hours spent focusing on the same material for a majority of the night. Bloodshot eyes darted to the watch tied around his thin wrist.

4:23 AM.

His colleagues, including his partner, had all left long ago, leaving him alone in his office. The building was as silent as a graveyard.

“Guess I’ll call it a night, then.” The man began, standing up from his seat and stretching his back, wincing as it popped. 24 years old and his back was already in dismal shape.

Ah, the time.

4 AM.

At this rate he might as well stay here again for the night. But judging by that pop in his back, most likely caused by sleeping hunched over his desk, he had better not.

His obsession with this case was fanatical. The detective was aware that he was focused on it in a fashion that was less than acceptable. But how could he not be?

It felt personal. Well, it WAS personal. And he so happened to be the lead investigator of this case, to a _certain someone’s request_.

Before that, he had really only been a grunt, but this certain someone more than demanded him.  
  
_‘More than demand’_ , as in holding members of Saihara’s bureau hostage, public vandalization, and threatening to burn the building to ashes.

But why Saihara…?

_Irrelevant_. He thought. But was it? Why was it his job to catch this criminal?

“Phantom Thief…” He spat the words hatefully, nose crinkling as he peered down at the annoyingly massive stack of papers at his desk.

It took all of his power not to stare at the compiled evidence until 4 AM the _next_ day.

Headline after headline, news story after news story... It was an endless stream of crime, and a good portion of it could be traced back to D.I.C.E., an underground criminal organization that most likely grossed over millions of dollars, and cost Saihara his sanity.  
Its main goal was unknown, the organization engaged in almost every criminal offense in the book. Its members specialized predominantly in thievery, however.

Intricate, infuriating heists that leaked out of Japan and into core cities across the globe.

The most infuriating part of it all, the leader made himself well known.

To be more proper, he _blatantly advertised himself._

The thief’s height and weight had all been calculated, his voice recorded… But not a single specialist could pinpoint who he was.  
He was cocky, a braggart, a liar; and an expert at what he did. So much so that the young leader-

_Was he young? Or even a man at all?_

Saihara’s brain presumed its buzzing musings again despite his drained physical state.

He shook his head and slapped his cheeks, returning to his original string of thought.

The young leader truly had the gall to show himself at nearly every important heist. He didn’t fear the law, not remotely, and it was clearer than the ear-splitting roar of an air raid siren. Well, it definitely gave Saihara the painful confusing ring in his head such a siren causes.  
The overworked man chuckled to himself at the comparison.

“Ah-”

He started, suddenly remembering the time yet again.

Saihara began gathering his things, slipping them into his brief case hurriedly. If he went home now…

Well, he would get 3 hours of sleep.

Lacing the handle of the coffee mug (he was going to need that) into his thin fingers, he slipped silently out of the office and into the cold night.

A solitary silhouette lonely against pale purple moonlight.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

_“Trapping me in a place like this… That’s very like you, Mister Detective.”_

 

Saihara groaned, burning fabric clinging to damp skin.

 

_“Do you remember, detective? You do, don’t you?”_

 

Molten lava sweat, white hot tendrils tearing down tender, pin-pricked skin.

 

_“You know why I chose you, don’t you, detective?”_

 

The mattress surged, drunken vertigo sending Saihara plunging into a spinning jet-black void. Chest rising and falling as he gasped for air.

Sludge and tar filled his burning lungs, and panicked hands grabbed frantically.

At anything at all.

_“Saihara-kun...”_

Tears trickled down fever-stricken cheeks.

_“Saihara-kun…”_

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

“Hellooooo, Saihara-kun!!”

The detective gasped, somewhere between a choke and a snort, eliciting a giggle from Kaede Akamatsu.

Suddenly he was back in his workplace, abuzz with the chatter and debate of his colleagues. Light trickled in lazily from the windows, and a blonde girl forced her way into focus.

“S-sorry!” He sputtered, eyes widening like saucers.

A cup of steaming coffee slid into his foggy vision. “You seem tired.”  
She stated the obvious, still smiling.

Kaede Akamatsu… What would he do without her? His trusted partner and close companion.

The woman has helped him in more ways than one, a constant selfless support. He accepted the coffee gratefully.

“What were you so deep in thought about?”

“I was… Trying to remember a dream I had last night.”

“A dream…?” She blinked several times before breaking into twinkling laughter.  
“Never mind about that. You can’t spend all this time trying to remember a dream. You’ve forgotten it for a reason, haven’t you?”

Saihara offered a smile, and nodded in agreement, though something in his chest refused to let the matter drop.

“Rantaro-kun invited us out to drinks after our shifts end tonight, please say you’ll come this time.”

“Um-” Saihara’s voice came out in a whisper as he grasped for an excuse to stay after again, he was close to discovering something… Whatever it was, he was sure he was close.

Kaede’s eyes flashed, she would have none of it.

“I said please, but you know I’m dragging you out. I don’t care if I have to tie you up and drag you there myself!”

In an effort to make Saihara laugh, she pouted at his painful silence. “Really, you need a break from this. You have to relax. You’ve worked yourself too hard, and it shows.”

“It does…?”

She nodded, “If you keep walking around in a crazed trance like this people are going to start thinking there’s something wrong with you!” Kaede brought her forefinger to her temple and swirled it in circles to emulate that Saihara looked absolutely bonkers the past few weeks.

It made sense, he would give her that, and he was long overdue for a good night’s sleep. But he couldn’t fathom how going out and drinking surrounded by rowdy coworkers would ease his exhaustion.

Though with Kaede giving him such a look, he knew he had no choice.

“Fine…”

He agreed, as if it mattered at all.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The clattering of glasses and incessant chatter roared throughout the bustling bar. The establishment wasn’t necessarily trashy, but it wasn’t high-end either. People from all walks of life laughed, yelled, and drank with… Vigor.

It was discordant, but friendly, and the welcoming atmosphere of the bar nurtured a comfortable, casual aesthetic.

Members from the investigative department eagerly joined in the cacophony, joking and socializing intensely.

...Where did they find this energy...?

Saihara’s head pulsed with a stress headache, and he sipped miserably on a foul-tasting bottle of beer. The predominant reason as to why he came was because Kaede had urged him, however she was now off socializing happily with whoever was available to listen. The man pouted, jutting his lower lip out pensively.

Oh, how tired he was…

And say, maybe if he looked at the accumulated paperwork on D.I.C.E. again he could really find something this time. And maybe-

“Someone’s looking lonely.” A sing-song voice chimed from behind him, causing blue-grey hairs to raise.

The detective nearly leapt from his skin as thin fingers drove firmly into his shoulder.

“May I have a seat?”

Saihara blinked as a cheerful Rantaro popped into view.

“Ah. Um-”

“I’ll take that as a yes, Saihara-kun…”

The man chuckled warmly and slipped elegantly into the seat adjacent him, an invitation to sit with Saihara was clearly not necessary.

Rantaro Amami… He worked in the same division as Saihara and Kaede, yet it was always a shock when that fact became apparent. Something about the man radiated allure and mystery.  
In comparison, the fragile and shy Saihara felt himself feeling bashful in his intimidatingly beautiful presence.

“I’m pleased you came along. Seeing you drooling over your papers until the early hours of morning… Well, it’s starting to get me worried!” Rantaro laughed that airy, seductive laugh yet again.

Saihara could feel heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. "How… Did you know that?”

The words croaked out broken and uneven, and he pulled the bill of his hat lower, shielding his burning face. Rantaro’s green eyes glistened with amusement, and something else.

“You haven’t seen me around the office at night? Even though it’s just the two of us? You must really be focused on your work, then…”

Rantaro didn’t continue speaking, and the sentence was left open in the air, stifling the atmosphere and causing a certain detective to shift awkwardly in his stool.

“So… Why are you staying at work so late…?” Saihara began, peering over at the other man from beneath his cap.

Rantaro took some time to respond, leaving Saihara in painful silence as he asked the bartender for a drink of his own. The man handed the elegant Rantaro a frothing beer, received his payment, and it became silent yet again.

Rantaro hummed, and took a sip of the beverage.

“Well, I’d like to catch the Phantom Thief myself, and ah… As you know I was originally the one assigned as lead investigator of this case-”

Saihara wrung his hands, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t have a choice in the matter anyhow, and I’d much rather the building not get burned to bits by a certain supreme leader.”

Rantaro winked playfully before continuing.

“I just mean that the case still feels relevant to me. I’d like to discover his identity and shut down this entire organization. Without him, I’m pretty certain the dreadful thing would crumble.”

Saihara nodded hastily. “Oh yes, I agree… Something about it feels personal to me as well. It’s aggravating…”

Now he was rambling… Was it the alcohol? Perhaps that’s why his cheeks felt so warm…

The other man raised a green eyebrow, his eyes flashing with that same… Whatever it was. “Personal? Elaborate.”

Saihara stammered, “Oh, um. Well…”

“SHUICHIIIII-chaan!!”

Suddenly a blonde blur burst into Saihara’s vision.

The man gasped as Kaede’s body collided with his own, her arms wrapping around his neck.  
She clung to him lazily, using his body as a crutch. The smell of alcohol radiated from her in intoxicating waves.

“Shuichi-chan… I’m sleepy… Take me home, will you?”

The fluffy sweater clad arms squeezed his neck even tighter.

Saihara choked and wheezed as his face turned from red to purple to blue.

Noticing a lack of response, Kaede withdrew her arms hurriedly, her eyes widening in drunken horror.  
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! Don’t die!”

The detective waved his hand in dismissal.

“It’s… Fine.” He coughed, massaging his throat with trembling fingers.

He pulled his hat further over his face in embarrassment, if he could even do so.  
The thing looked desperate to fall off and clung to his face with an almost magnetic force.

Rantaro watched in total amusement, his cheek resting delicately on the top of his hand.

“Looks like it’s time for someone to head home.” He added, smiling aloofly, green eyes watching with a mysterious intensity.

Saihara wondered if Rantaro had ever blinked before. He made a mental note to watch his eyes for any blinking action in the future.

Kaede’s eyes lit up as she was reminded of her initial goal.

“Oh, Yes! Home! Take me home, Shuichi, will you?”

“F-fine! But stop calling me Shuichi…! It’s… It’s embarrassing!”

They already looked a couple, but after this he was certain they looked even more suspicious than before. It felt like every pair of eyes was on him, though it was only his social anxiety. Probably his crippling self-consciousness, too.  
Ah.  
Or was it.

Kaede nodded impatiently and smirked devilishly. “Sure, sure. Now let’s go before I fall asleep in your lap!”

This statement ripped Saihara from his anxious reverie and elicited another flurry of stammers from his pale lips.  
To avoid being in this situation further, he leapt from his seat to escort Kaede out.

“Goodnight, Rantaro-san!!” He called out, offering Rantaro an anxious look before guiding a hobbling and joyfully singing Kaede from the building.

Once the two had left, Rantaro sighed and reclined in his seat.

Those two were more than a handful, and though intelligent and always willing to help, he found it aggravating that they were shoved into a lead position.

The man had kept every letter the Phantom Thief had sent the department, read it over and over again, but he still found himself incredibly agitated that the bureau played into whatever game the leader was planning.

The thief demanded Saihara. Not because he knew he was inexperienced, but as described in the letter, _he was the only one he believed could capture him_.

But even still, why would the Phantom Thief want to be captured? Was he that bored with the law? Or did he actually believe Saihara had that ability?

With a groan, Rantaro stood from the bar and left the establishment himself. Plucking a cigarette and lighter from his pocket, he lit the cigarette and popped it between plump lips.  
Autumn was in its last stages of life, and the cold of winter had already begun to nip eagerly at his skin.  
The wind whipped its icy tendrils, breezing through his body like a ghost.  
Shuddering, and clinging to his cigarette like a lifeline, he strolled towards his apartment.  
The man’s mind drifted with the wind, and he found himself reflecting on all that had occurred, and the very beginnings of D.I.C.E.

The organization was fairly new. The leader and creator of said organization was clearly a young man. With his stature, the infamous thief could be anywhere from 15 to 25 for all they knew.  
Though he was positive there was no way the thief couldn’t be an adult at this point. Such a fast-growing organization would require the youth of a younger man, but the wit of an older man.  
Or maybe a genius.

It had started with petty crimes that flew past the radar. Officers brushed it off as teenaged rebellion, but soon the damn thing blossomed into a massive underground conglomerate, all in just several years.  
The existence of D.I.C.E. was a vile reminder of their failure to address the issue in its beginnings, and a clever move on the thief’s part.

Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice how swiftly he had arrived at his apartment. With heavy feet, the man drudged up cement stairs leading to the dingy apartment.

That rat bastard had better not pull any stunts this weekend, if he’s the detective on call-...

...

Ah, that was right.

Saihara was the lead investigator for this particular case.

The thought was a bitter comfort, and Rantaro huffed as he shakily unlocked his front door, and stumbled clumsily into his apartment.  
Without brushing his teeth, locking the door, or even undressing, the man drifted into his bedroom and dropped onto messy sheets.

Saihara...

The poor man didn’t know what he was getting himself into.  
The Phantom Thief was a character that was constantly starved for mayhem, testing and outsmarting law enforcement for the simple excitement of it. He derived pleasure from creating chaos and watching as those affected struggled to wrap their minds around his actions. The leader clearly had something planned, and Saihara was undoubtedly going to find himself in the middle of it.

Whatever it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!
> 
> This is the first time I've written in probably a year and a half, so I'm very rusty. ;;
> 
> However, I'm pretty excited about this fic!  
> I truly hope the idea hasn't been used already, so I apologize if there's already something similar to it.. ;__; But I have some exciting plans fort it!
> 
> and goodness, I hope to get a hold of the formatting omg. So confusing!!
> 
> If you like it, let me know! If not, let me know as well!
> 
> Thanks again! (^-人-^)


End file.
